


Just This Once

by mrs_squirrel_chester



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Dean Winchester Angst, Dean Winchester Fluff, Dean Winchester NSFW, Dean Winchester Smut, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Female Reader NSFW, Female Reader SMUT, Female Reader angst, Female Reader fluff, Fluff, NSFW, Oral Sex, Sexual Content, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-23
Updated: 2015-10-23
Packaged: 2018-04-27 17:49:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5058082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mrs_squirrel_chester/pseuds/mrs_squirrel_chester
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Reader Request - Reader is Dean’s girlfriend, she’s really good at computers and he teases her because of that. One day she gets really sad because she didn’t like one joke and Dean tries to apologize to her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just This Once

Your fingers flew over the keyboard in a blur, finding the information the boys needed in order to _gank the son of a bitch_. Research. That was your contribution to the team. You didn’t go out in the field, you didn’t wield a gun or a blade, and you didn’t wind up with gashes deep enough that you could see bone. You knew your place and you liked it. Honestly. You felt at home behind a keyboard and monitor. No one could hurt you here. No one except for Dean. He teased you from the get go, but that was Dean, right? Always poking fun at everyone else even though he was the biggest geek you had ever met. That man housed more knowledge about Star Wars, Lord of the Rings, and Game of Thrones than anyone you knew. You had managed to take every small joke, every jab, and every poke to the ribs with his elbow in stride. Until tonight.

Dean stood behind you, hands on your shoulders, working at the ever present knot. “How’s it goin’, geek squad?”

Your fingers froze in mid-stroke, hovering over the home row.

Sam hissed in disapproval from across the table. “Duuuuude.”

The man behind you chuckled only because he didn’t see your eyes well up. “What? Y/N knows I’m playin’.

Clearing your throat, you slapped the laptop closed and shrugged out of Dean’s grip. “All this research has made me tired. I’ll see you in the morning, Sam.” And with that, you stormed out of the library and down the hall to your room. Well, your old room. You hadn’t slept in it since you moved into Dean’s room a couple of months ago.

You managed to keep from crying until the door was closed and you were lying on the bed. With your face buried in the pillow you let go of all the times he had called you a stupid name. You know he didn’t mean to hurt your feelings, but the truth was it **did** hurt. Every time. But this was your first time crying about it. You felt like an idiot, crying over something so… trivial. It was just a name. It didn’t mean anything, right? Deep down you knew it meant something. Being teased was part of your everyday life in school. There was always someone tugging on your pigtails, making fun of your glasses, and the way you always had your nose in a book. It started from the first day and went until the last day.

So when you met the Winchesters, you thought things were going to be different. And with Sam, it was. He knew what it was like getting teased for being a “geek”. Needless to say, you were the most surprised out of the group when you started developing feelings for Dean. Come on, how could you not? He was tall, not as tall as his younger brother, but he still towered over you, protected you from everything that went bump in the night. He had these eyes, these indescribable eyes that reminded you of emeralds and amber. Then there were his shoulders. My God… he had shoulders that went on for days. And his hands. Your body flushed every time you even thought about his hands. But all of that started to not mean as much when every other time he talked to you, about you, he was calling you a name.

Three knocks sounded before the loud creak of the door filled your room. “Y/N? You in here?”

“Go away, Dean.” You sniffled loudly, wiping at your face with the back of your hand. 

But he didn’t go away. Instead, he walked in and closed the door behind him. His stocking feet were barely audible as he maneuvered through the almost pitch room. The bed dipped as he sat on the edge of the bed before swinging his legs up. Lying down in front of you, his knees brushed against yours, and it wasn’t long before he was brushing the hair from your tear stained face. When you didn’t jerk away from him, he crept closer, tangled his legs with yours, and wrapped his arms around you. His hands spread over your back, moving in slow, lazy circles when another wave of emotion hit you.

“I’m sorry, babe.” He dropped kisses into your hair as you cried, hands gripping onto his shirt as if your life depended on it.

You didn’t know what you expected from him, but this wasn’t it. Dean only apologized when he knew how bad he messed up and he didn’t exactly handle it well when there was a great show of emotion. So having him here, comforting you like this, meant a great deal. The tears finally subsided and when you spoke, your voice shook. “Can you just… not call me names all the time?”

Eyes having adjusted to the dark, you could see his face, albeit blurry, when he leaned back. He swept his thumb under your eye, wiping away the drying tears. “You got it.”

“Promise?”

He rubbed his nose against yours and threaded his fingers in your hair. “Well… can I still call you short stuff?”

Despite everything, a chuckle spilled out. “That one is on the approved list.”

“What about darlin’?” His lips were warm against your cheek.

“Mmmmm, approved.”

You could hear the smirk in his voice. “Hot stuff?”

His mouth was on your pulse point, sucking and nipping, making it impossible to think clearly. “Sure.”

“What about mine?” He grabbed your ass and pulled you roughly into him, grinding his hips into yours.

Your mouth fell open with a gasp and you arched your back, curving your body into his so that you didn’t know where you ended and Dean began. You grabbed at his back, sliding your hands under his shirt and into the top of his boxer briefs. “Yes.”

He moaned into the crook of your neck, sandpaper stubble burned your skin as he rocked against you. One of his hands left your ass and quickly untied your jersey knit pajama pants. He bit your shoulder when he found out you weren’t wearing panties. Calloused fingers slid between your damp folds, pulling a moan from both of you. Your hips bucked as you rolled onto your back, legs falling open, desperate to feel them inside of you. Answering your not so silent pleas, he slid in his index, followed quickly by his middle finger. He scissored them back and forth, crooking just right to brush your g-spot until you began to see stars.

His name fell from your lips like a curse when your belly tightened and you writhed under his hand. He pushed up your shirt, exposing your bare breasts and dropped open mouthed kisses to them, sucking and biting the sensitive skin. He pulled a nipple between his teeth, working his tongue around it in time with his thumb on your clit. You grabbed at his shoulders and neck, coming hard enough that it took your breath away.

After you stopped shaking, Dean pulled back long enough to get undressed while you did the same. Your shirt was barely out of your hand when he buried his face between your legs. He licked you from stem to stern, moaning heavily when he reached your clit. He swirled the tip of his tongue around it, flicked it, teasing it before sucking it greedily between his sinfully full lips. You grabbed his hair when his teeth grazed over it, sending a sharp jolt of pain through you.

You were about to ask him to stop playing around when he sucked on your clit and slammed two fingers into your pussy. Your back came off the bed as he fucked you fast and furious with his fingers. The orgasm slammed into you, making it impossible to breathe as you came all over his fingers and mouth.

Dean kissed his way up your body, nipping every so often until he reached your jaw. His stubble tickled your chin as he kissed you, driving his tongue against yours, forcing you to taste yourself. The thick length of his cock rubbed against you, spreading your slick. You reached down and began to stroke him, mixing your slick with his pre-cum, twirling your thumb over the velvet cockhead. His hips thrust on their own, craving your touch, desperate for a release.

Growling when you placed him at your entrance, Dean pressed forward, entering you easily. With your hands on his lower back and ass, and your legs falling open even wider, he couldn’t stay still any longer. He started out slow with tight, controlled thrusts that made him grunt every time your bodies connected. Wet slaps of skin echoed in the small room as his thrusts gained momentum, growing more and more wild, pushing you higher up on the bed.

He slid an arm beneath you and grabbed your shoulder, pulling you into him _harder, harder._ Never one for leaving you unsatisfied, he dropped his mouth to your ear and asked you to _cum for me, baby._ You slapped your hands onto the headboard and snapped your hips up, angling them just right so that the next thrust would make you unravel. You came with a shout of his name that made your throat burn. He quickly followed, shouting into your neck as he pulsed.

You were still seeing stars when Dean rolled to his back and when you could breathe somewhat normally, you curled into him, resting your cheek against his chest. Sighing contentedly, he threaded his fingers in your hair, scraping his nails on your scalp.

“I really am sorry.” His breath was hot against your sweat slicked skin.

Remembering something he had told Sam on more than one occasion, you looked up at him. “No chick flick moments.”

“Just this once.”


End file.
